Kite Koiwi
by Negare
Summary: Mirrorverse. Continues on from Timata meinga hei ururua. Rangimarie wakes to the chilling reality of the burgeoning resistance and the real sadism of certain Autobot scientists.
1. Chapter 1

**Kite kōiwi **

(See for oneself)

Tobias had been a bit of an arse really, he had taken his time in telling her how long she'd been out to it. At first he'd said it was only a week. Turned out it was over a month… several weeks over a month!

Regardless, given the situation, what she'd seen, what was going on, it didn't really matter much how long she'd been out. Chances were, she was probably better off having coma-ed through most of it.

She felt like a ghost drifting long the basement corridors of a building long since past. She wondered about the people who built this. Did they truly believe that the "commies" would nuke them? Did they think this place would withstand a 2 megaton nuke? Or whatever yield they had on hand in the 50s. It certainly had that golden day charm. Half expecting a woman with short curly hair and a boofy skirt and one of those pink frilly aprons carrying a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip biscuits. She could certainly go for some of them right now… but chances are she'd never lay eyes, or hands, on a warm, tasty smelling bikkie. Damn those fucking machines.

It was a rather unpleasant smell that met her as she entered into one of the communal rooms. A mob of at least eight children came running over, grabbing her, wrapping their skinny arms about her, patting her pockets.

"You got any chocolate, ma'am?"

One of them asked, his scruffy black hair covered his eyes.

"Yeah, what about chips? I want BBQ chicken flavour".

Another said, a small girl, maybe 6 years?

"HEY! You lot! Leave her alone, right?"

A man walked over fussing at their youthful excitement.

"Nah, don't worry about it, ay. They're just kids".

She said calmly.

"Yeah, okay, but you need to see Toby".

He seemed polite but his tone of voice indicated he probably wasn't making a suggestion.

"Right-oh".

She said and turned to the door, the man walking along side her. He gently pushed through the throng of immature humanity and they were back in those horrid green pastel halls.

The corridors were certainly lengthy, they walked in relative silence but he appeared to be in a hurry.

"You gotta name?"

She asked momentarily.

"Sure".

He replied.

"You gonna tell me?"

She looked at him noting a stain on the wall as they moved along.

"Why bother? I'll be dead soon enough that it won't have ever mattered".

"Oh… okay then".

She decided not to push the issue.

Thankfully they reached Toby's "office", and he banged on the door before wandering off in another direction. A voice from inside gave her instruction to enter.

"Hey, Marie! Come in. You're looking a heck of a lot better".

Shutting the door behind her she walked into the room.

Toby was standing at a table with two other men. One looked familiar the other she'd never seen before.

"This is Sparkplug".

He motioned to the man she thought she recognised. He looked at her with the same expression – that'd he'd seen her before.

"And this is Muhammad".

The obviously Middle Eastern man nodded.

"Marie here's a nurse, how lucky are we?"

Toby grinned.

"We could use a trained medic, after what those beasts have been doing".

Sparkplug noted.

"I heard a rumour they're killing doctors and cops, basically anyone in uniform".

She stated.

"Yeah, that's true. At first it looked like they were just taking out cops and army personnel, but its' obviously in their best interest to wipe out our medical professionals. You lot can patch us back together and send us back out there to take pot shots at those fucking things, medics are good for the resistance and they know it!"

Sparkplug continued

"So, why am I here? You want me to start setting up first aide workshops?"

She raised an eyebrow, a simple query not a suggestion of intent.

"Well, we would like you to try and train a few of our members; however we have more pressing matters. We've got a lot of injuries coming in. Our members are doing a lot of recon at the moment, and they have a habit of finding people who've been hurt".

Sparkplug stated.

"The other issue we have is our hygiene problems. You're a nurse; you might be able to give us a few suggestions as to what we can do to prevent some horrid outbreak. Not to mention, we want you to create a list of vital supplies, medicines and such that we can look for in the ruins".

Muhammad explained.

"Sparkplug and Muhammad are members of other resistance cells, they don't have any medics at the moment, but they're closer to the action so we wouldn't put you in their facilities for risk of loosing you".

"Ah… that's flattering, in a creepy possessive kind of way".

"Look, lady, you seem like a nice girl, facial tats and all, but we don't have proper medics, those robotic sadists are bringing a whole new world of death to humanity and we don't' have time for you to feel uncomfortable about what role we put you in. I mean hell, you think this time last year I was thinking of being in a resistance movement against invading alien robots?"

Sparkplug growled, resting his big hairy hands on the wobbly table in front of him.

"Sorry".

She didn't know what else to add to that statement.

"Okay, now I know we said we weren't going to dump you in it, but there's a small base near by and we need you go to there and check on some injured people. But we think they're too unstable to bring them here and their not that close to any action. You think you can do that? Muhammad will take you".

The problem with the English accent, no matter what he said, or how dangerous it would be, he still sounded like a gentlemen asking for another spoon of sugar in his tea.

"Ahhh… shit. Okay, let's get it over with".

She looked to her guide for the day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Where are we?"

She asked as she clambered up over a mound of twisted metal and shattered masonry.

"I'm unsure. I was only in America for two days before they came".

"No, I mean, are we close to this base with the injured?"

She clarified.

"Oh, another 10 minutes at our current rate, and if nothing intercepts our journey".

The destruction took on a whole different appearance where most of the fires had burnt out. Plumes of smoke no longer bellowed upwards into the atmosphere, but the skies were an unsavoury maroonish grey colour, hints of yellow and blue occasionally shone through the gaps in the new style of cloud. The smell was even worse than she remembered. The burnt remains of city, nature and humanity seemed to have increased. The usual mounds of bodies that lay scattered about were a beacon to every nearby fly to deposit its eggs, the maggots having a fine time wriggling through the long dead flesh. Trees that once made up green forests that stretched for miles were simply graveyards; all that was left of the nature was the charred and blackened skeletal trunks and branches.

What amazed her was the "snow". Rather then being pure white, and a product of freezing temperatures and a long winded explanation of evaporation, the ground was covered with black soot. It was at least ankle deep in parts, covering her shoes and dirtying the bottoms of her pants. She hoped whoever had donated the items wouldn't be offended. Of course, the morbid thing was that who ever these clothes had belonged to, they were probably dead now… or worse. Of course, they could have come from a department store, but given the few holes and faded patches they were obviously pre-owned.

They climbed up over a hill walking over the fractured roadway until they reached the summit. The view stripped her of any hope of a rebuild. The giant plumes of smoke that had once shrouded the city had now dissipated enough that the ruins of the metropolis were plainly seen – and there wasn't a hell of a lot left. Mostly the metal spines of buildings, bent, twisted, warped by a non-human heat. They were at least 40km, but even at that distance the sheer morose nature of the place ripped into her soul, it wasn't even her native soil but it still hurt. She didn't know the name of the city, but at that point it mattered not as it would mostly likely never again be a home to anyone, ever.

She was suddenly aware her companion was pulling her down towards a pile of rock that an overturned car lay balanced precariously against.

"Ssssh".

He pointed.

She saw.

"Oh… crap".

She whispered as she looked towards the monster walking through the ruins.

The two ducked down behind the rubble and crawled behind the car. Muhammad peered out cautiously. An intense glare spread across his face and his eyes were filled with hatred.

"Allah calm my mind. Guide my hand. Death to the soulless infidels".

He whispered, she noticed him suddenly slide what looked like a gun from his pants and he aimed it in the direction of the alien.

"No… look… I think its leaving".

She said softly, barely audible.

He looked at her then back at the creature.

She hadn't seen that one before; it had blue shins and lower arms, and a white torso, with hints of grey. It picked something up and crushed it, then holding its arm out straight, opened its fingers and the dust sprinkled down to the charred earth. It said something but they were too far away from it to hear. It transformed into a dune buggy kind of thing before speeding off towards the city, bouncing about as it went.

"You don't think it found the base thing?"

She whispered as she watched Muhammad stand, he was quiet, and his features were still firm with detestation. No point asking if he hated them, or why, it'd be pretty obvious and guarantee his reasons would be similar to her reasons and her reasons were similar to every other human on the planet.

"I don't' think he'd be crushing rubble if he had found the base".

He stated after an uncomfortable silence… well, she felt it was uncomfortable, especially when he didn't even look at her as he spoke.

"This way".


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The entrance, whether intentionally or otherwise, was hidden behind a huge sheet of corrugated iron. There was a large singe in the left corner, where it'd started to curl up. The right side of the sheet was pinned between the cracked concrete ground and a large pile of shattered bricks and blackened wooden beams. Muhammad looked about before he crouched down and pushed the metal so it pivoted under the pile, it revealed a hole and an unsteady looking ladder that led down into the darkness.

"It's some kind of emergency exit".

He said as he motioned for the nurse to climb down.

There was an unsettling chill to the place. Noting her worn and fraying brown acrylic jersey wasn't helping, she wrapped her arms around herself to try and warm her inwards. She found it not very effective.

"It's cold down here because it used to be the underground storage of an abattoir. There's not much left of the building. However, ironically, the killing floor is still visible".

He explained as he landed next to her, having pulled the cover over the hole.

"Charming".

She replied. Inwardly entertaining the thought, how lucky the "resistance" or survivors were, to constantly be finding underground facilities that offered adequate shelter… or at least secret shelter.

Muhammad shone a small key ring torch. It didn't illuminate very far into the tunnel, but it still gave them a slightly visible path.

"But you gotta be up on the surface at the other end of the basement to see it. And that entrance is blocked up".

He walked ahead of her for a few metres before she joined him.

What used to store meat was a rather unsettling looking place. It reminded her of a psych ward she'd once worked in. The floors were a well used and appropriately stained concrete with vents every so often. The walls were white tile which were a little more immaculate. Huge hooks hung from metal rails from the ceiling. There were no carcases down here. Either this basement wasn't being used or the resistance had used what ever they could and spread it around. In the far corner close to two large metal doors – obviously the entrance that Muhammad told her was blocked – sitting there were a group of people. Some lay about groaning softly, others sitting next to them trying to keep them hushed. There were about five slumped against those white tile walls, and there were varying degree of drying blood blobs about the place.

"This is Marie, she is a nurse. Those of you who are most injured will be looked at first, don't' expect miracles or the likelihood of cure".

She looked over at Muhammad, scrunched her forehead in a surprised kind of glance at his tactlessness. Regardless, she walked over to the first in her line of sight, a young man sitting up against the wall, holding his abdomen. He looked at her and grinned, or attempted to.

"What happened?"

She asked simply.

"Got to close to one of those things… gave me a good whack".

"Can I have a closer look?"

He nodded in affirmation and let her open his shirt to examine his belly.

There was serious bruising, the sides of his torso literally black, several of his ribs were broken and as she gently palpated she was aware of at least one fracture in the right wing of his pelvis.

"When did this happen?"

"'bout a day ago".

"Okay, I'll see what I can find to help with the pain, but you should be okay, I think it's just bruising".

She stood up and walked to another individual.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Bruce is dying?"

She looked over at Muhammad as she gathered up the meagre medical supplies that the group in the meat store possessed.

"Bruce?"

"The first guy you looked at, the one with all the bruising on his belly and sides".

She nodded.

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"You're going to tell me how to do my job now?"

She said, he didn't pick up on her slight joking tone.

"Seems kind of cruel. He needs to make his peace with God".

"This is not a pleasant time in history for us little humans. The guy's got enough to deal without having to know he's not going to see this through. You're welcome to go tell him if you want. Sure it's a moral issue, about choice, and information and knowledge, but there's nothing we can do for him".

Muhammad sighed.

"Some of the guys I work with are heading over here to take the more stable ones back to a safer area. What should we do with the… well… the "Bruces"?"

"Make them as comfortable as possible. I found these lolly things in that kid's pocket. Tell the dying it's morphine".

"Placebo?"

"Here's hoping. I don't think we can spare the real stuff… unless you know otherwise".

"I must leave now. You believe you can return to Toby's?"

She looked up at him, surprised and a tad worried.

"You'll be fine. You American women believe you are equal to men."

"I'm not an American".

She replied, almost offended, especially since she hadn't made any stereotyped comments or assumptions about him and his origin. Regardless he didn't seem to care, and simply turned and walked back the way they had entered, joining two other men, both heavily armed… not that two shotguns could be classed as "heavily armed" in the recent climate.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Muhammad's men had come and gone, taking with them those capable of walking. Rangimarie remained with the others until they had all passed. At least their bodies would receive some dignity, left alone to sleep eternally in a makeshift crypt, not to be desecrated by those creatures rampaging through human lands. Her culture demanded that the dead never be left alone until they had been buried, she had no time to organise a Tangi1, and doubted the metallic monsters would allow her sabbatical to do so. Yet, the meat cooler would now serve as their final place of rest, so perhaps she was justified in leaving.

She clambered up out of the exit way and dropped the grenade down the passage. Intending to bury those properly so that no one would inadvertently disturb them. Besides, she had experience with those monsters and couldn't quite see a small human grenade doing them any damage; it'd probably just scratch their paint job and piss them off – so no real waste.

It was morning. The light from the rising sun was barely able to scratch the dark smog that drifted between the ruined ground and the smoke filled sky. She was surprised how much time had passed. The explosion of the grenade wasn't that noticeable but she decided to move on in case it attracted something with more pedantic senses. She wasn't sure if she should head back to Tobias' hidey hole, or if she should hide somewhere till dark. Deciding on the second idea, she wandered off in a north western direction away from the base she supposed was her home now.

There was a river up ahead, the bridge that had once reached over it was now a fractured limb, and she hurried over to it and clambered down the bank. She was able to climb in under the remains that rested diagonally from the road to the centre of the now blackened liquid. She wasn't too sure about its structural integrity but it would have to do for now. Bodies in large amounts, and often in large pieces, floated along in the mucky water. It's once clear waters stained with soot, human materials, wood and whatever else could still float. And of course, the whole place stank. Hoping nasal fatigue would kick in soon, but given it'd been quite a few number of days and she could still smell it, taste it, feel it, unlikely then that she'd learn to ignore it or even live with it. A bird landed on the muddy bank and starting poking about in the dirt, obviously trying to find something to eat. Its tail feathers were singed, a toe on its right foot was broken its beak was chipped on the end. Probably had been caught on the edge of an explosion of some description. She wasn't sure what kind of bird it was, although given its body typed it appeared as some kind of crane, though it was covered in soot so what colour it was she didn't know. She wondered how it'd had survived as long as it had, wondered if it was lucky or not, if it had chicks hidden somewhere, if this would be its last day.

Time under the remains of the bridge passed slowly, and with no unsavoury event. The bird stayed and poked around for about 5 minutes before it flew off, she didn't see it again. There were no sounds of explosions or rumbles or screams. The wind picked up every now and then, gently blowing the light covering of ash over the pot marked ground. The smell remained. Since the robots devastated the planet and the ash and debris that were thrown up into the atmosphere, the global temperature had dropped at least 5 degrees on average. Eventually the temperature dropped lower indicating it was later in the day, the second clue was the dim light had slowly decreased into it was almost complete pitch. This was the time to move back to the base, she mused as she began the clamber up slough covered embankment. Starting back the way she came proved a lot more difficult in the dimming light of dusk, but she figured she'd just walk in a straight line.

The stars in the night sky along with the moon were no longer visible to the naked human eye; the remains of human civilisation didn't just diminish the grandeur of the day, but now so blatantly encapsulated the once beautiful night. She wondered how long humanity would take to overthrow these bastards and how long after the environment would take to recover. Perhaps humans wouldn't win, perhaps these scum would suck this planet dry but in all likelihood the earth would slowly return to an orb flourishing with life, evolution would get the ball rolling again. Might take millions, perhaps billions of years, but such time was just a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. In all probability the continents wouldn't even look like the globes in today's ruined classrooms and burning libraries. She contemplated these things as she walked along in the darkness, her feet careful with each step not to fall down some hole or trip over some twisted metal or overcooked corpse.

It was such a powerful light; she flinched and groaned, falling to the dirt. She sheltered her eyes with her arm, but was able to peak out from under towards the source. One of those things.

"Shit".

She grunted as she pushed herself up and took off in the other direction to where she was headed. The light intensified and then she realised it was heating up and was slamming into the ground to her left. An all to familiar formula of explosion took place and lifted her slightly off the ground pushing her about three metres forward along the gritty land. Swearing, she turned and faced the monster. The light still shining brightly from some form of cannon on its shoulder.

"Well, now. You will certainly be a fine edition to my research. And with so little injury, you have done well in evading us, haven't you flesh creature? Either a cowardly attempt at circumventing our efforts or an actual intellectual strategy?"

The creature reached down and plucked her from the ground. He held her in front of his face and gave her a more in-depth scan. The light from his shoulder prevented her from being able to view his face with any detail.

1 Tangi – funeral service/period of mourning before burial


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Whatever had happened between the creature finding her and this moment she could not remember. Had he knocked her out? Had she been sedated? Her mind wiped? Regardless of the events between then and now, she was more concerned with the small cell she found herself in. It was a clear box, with air holes about 30 cm out of her reach when she stood. The lid was firmly bolted with some kind of electronic looking lock which was flashing red every few seconds. The cell she was in sat on a bench, to her left another cell with an unconscious man, to her right a cell with a decomposing individual of indeterminate sex. She could see other cells next to those ones and cells across the room. She looked up but could only see the underside of what she assumed to be a shelf; she was unable to look down as the shelf her cell rested on extended out about metre or so.

"Hello?"

She called out at above normal volume.

She saw movement from her left, the cell next to the unconscious man.

"Are you really there? Are you really awake?"

"Yeah"

"No. It can't be, you can't be, you're one of their drugs making me hallucinate!"

"No, seriously, I'm alive, I'm awake, and I'm real".

"NO. You're not! NO! No. No. No. NO. NO! NO! NONONO!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!"

His voice when hoarse and then he fell to his knees and sobbed.

There was a swishing sound and she heard footsteps enter the room. She lay down and pretended to still be unconscious, or asleep, or sedated or whatever.

The footsteps approached, stopped, but not near her, and she heard the sobbing man start screaming incoherently. The cage was slid off the shelf and the creature walked passed her towards another exit, the man's screams continued until the doors closed and the monster with the screaming man was gone.

Then there was nothing but silence in the room. It continued for several long minutes, maybe hours, she really had no concept of time in this place.

"What's your name?"

A voice from below.

"Who me?"

She said after a few minutes of consideration as to whether he was talking to her.

"Yeah".

"Rangimarie".

"Italian?"

"Nah, Maori".

"Oh, right. I worked with some Maori guy once; he was a bouncer at a club where I was the manager".

He replied.

"And yours?"

She asked.

"Stu. So, what do you do… or did?"

"For a job, you mean?"

"Yeah".

"I was a cleaner at Wal-Mart".

She lied without any hesitation. Amazed at how quickly she was able to lie and how plausible it sounded.

"Oh…"

He sounded almost embarrassed for her.

"So…"

She asked.

"How'd a guy like me end up in a place like this?"

He replied after surmising her query.

"Yeah, pretty much".

"I got caught up in one of their round ups, was taken to a labour camp, worked for a while, then the evil bastard who runs this show turned up, picked me out of a group of schmucks and here I am".

"Labour camps? Seriously?"

"Yeah, haven't you seen them?"

"No… I kinda just hung around and hid in rubble and caves and such".

"Lucky you, but there's quite a few people in here… or who were in here that had avoided labour camps".

"What are they like… dare I ask?"

She asked, if only to continue the conversation. He didn't reply right away, she heard him lean against the wall and slowly slide down until the light thump indicated he was now sitting. He sighed, almost sobbed.

"Sorry, don't answer if you're not happy too".

She added when she noted another small sob like sigh.

"Nah… its okay, I'd rather talk about it, if only I don't live long enough to then maybe you can".

"Sure".

It was more of an agreement to his logic then to actually willing to carry out his perhaps last wish.

"They're… they're just hell holes. They locked us all up in a huge metal room with shitty little air vents and one tiny little stream of water running along one of the walls. They didn't give us enough blankets, not enough food either… well, not until some of the inmates started dying off… or being murdered. They would throw in a pile of random canned goods each morning – one time all we had was dog food for a week, and the cans were labelled! Everything from creamed corn to canned eels! We had to work from 5 in the morning till 10 at night. After that giant shit Perceptor took me they slaughtered everyone. "Getting in a new set" and "discarding an expired set" is how they refer to the mass murder of one group and the replacement of them. Holy shit! My grandfather was in Auschwitz. Oh god! Its happening again only with aliens!! OH GOD!"

At that he began sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'm… so sorry".

She whispered.

"Oh for fuck's sake, shut yer damn trap, Stu, we're all in the same boat, we've all seen the same crap, and if not we will do. We're here to die. We all gotta do it some time, might as well be in the near future".

A male voice from above them… perhaps two shelves above.

Stu's sobs started to quieten down, the man from above didn't add anything else and now there hung in the air a rather tense and foreboding sensation. Marie walked a few steps to the back left corner and sat down. Closing her eyes, exhaling firmly she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Having been rudely awaken by one of those things tapping on the wall of her little cage she wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep as there wasn't a clock using human numerals. The metallic beast wasn't any she'd seen before, not that she'd seen a great deal of them. He had no mouth or what she could identify as a mouth and had two large panels on the sides of his head which she would notice would flash with each word he spoke.

"What are you doing in my lab, Wheeljack?"

The one known as Perceptor asked as he walked in to his lab, a hint of irritation in his finely crafted vocal processor.

"Our great and wise Leader, Optimus Prime has demanded you give me one of your _collection _for my valuable research".

Wheeljack turned away from the cells and grunted out a chuckle soaked with arrogance.

"You can have this one".

The more articulate Autobot scientist seemed unimpressed, and certainly unconcerned with the apparently drunken antics of that smug ignoramus. Perceptor reached up to the top shelf and removed a cage. In it a morbidly obese man, so massive he was unable to stand on his own power.

"I'm sure this specimen will benefit your research greatly, Wheeljack".

Perceptor stated, almost sounding amused.

"Told ya we're all gonna die".

The man was the owner of the previous voice.

Wheeljack seemed irritated, but rather then letting Perceptor see it, would simply take the excessive blob of flesh and then lather stir the pot within his own contacts. OF course, Perceptor was the last Autobot anyone would dare cross, rumour was that even Prime avoided the dark recesses of his lab. Of course, once over energised or poorly maintenance Wheeljack would sometimes take a jab. He turned, human blob under arm, and left.

"Time for sustenance".

He pressed a button on the left of the wall and all cages slammed up against each other on each shelf, he pressed another button and all walls between the cells disappeared allowing them physical contact with their neighbours. With the press of a final button a series of small crackers popped up from suddenly appearing gap in the floor. She quickly noticed that there were more people then crackers and that the small amount was less then what she'd eat for a morning snack.

"You may begin".

She watched as from behind her three men came rushing past and diving for the flecks of food, a closer woman grabbed one and stuffed it in her mouth, chewing violently, the lack of crunch indicated just how stale they were. She was sure she noted a speck or two of mould on one of them. She stood right back at the point when the humans in the row came together in an incredibly animalistic row. Blood was splattered upwards, screams, yells, swears and horrible crunching sounds – and not that of munching stale crackers – rung out.

Deciding not to get to close to the brawl proved a wise decision as two of the men seemed to have teamed up and were now kicking the snot out of one of the women. The other woman who had managed a cracker was now on the receiving end of another's fist ploughing into her face, several of her teeth were fractured and chunks flicked upwards. When she was no longer fighting back the man actually slipped his fingers into her mouth and tried to scoop out the chewed up crackers – he was that desperate. The other woman was now definitely deceased. The men now turned on each other and the violence increased. Eventually they tired and once they had slumped to their knees to catch their breaths they realised that the remaining crackers had been crushed into an inedible paste. The sobs that followed were truly pathetic. She stepped back and walked to other end of the row. Those above were still fighting and it actually sounded that it was intensifying. There was very little noise coming from below them. And the entire time, she now noticed, this Perceptor was examining the whole savage antics and entering data into a sort of electronic note book. It was horrendous.

"Return to your cell division".

Perceptor commanded.

When their response was slow in coming he pressed another button and suddenly the most intense pain ripped up her legs. She screeched in surprise as much as discomfort and jumped. The others gave the same answer, but all were very soon in a section. The button pressed again and the walls re-appeared and the cells moved apart. And almost no one had managed any real meal… well, other then one of the women. Their devastated corpses lay in pools of blood, a mixture of those who had gotten into the fray. The Autobot removed the cell which contained the bodies. It was when he walked passed with them that she noticed there were more then two bodies, another woman, and a man lay in the midst of the carnage. She wasn't entirely sure if the other two were dead but whatever fate he carried them to they would be soon if they weren't now. Well, most probably.

And that was that. He was gone. The room was quiet. The smell of fresh blood still lingered in the air. She wondered about those above and below her home row, did they get something to eat? The other question that bothered her, that now entered into her thought process, how long would it take before she would fight to the death for a few stale crackers? Fight with people she would come to know? Of course, perhaps she would just sit here, keep her mouth shut, and like the others, be experimented on, tortured, harmed, and wouldn't think twice about digging her fingers into the eyes of another, all for those stale crackers. She curled up on the floor of the cold cell and closed her eyes tightly, tears slowly ebbing out and streaking her face, dripping down on the floor. Wanting sleep, perhaps wishing for death.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

She was less then enthused to wake. She was spread eagle on a table, her wrists and ankles shackled down. Perceptor was leaning over her with a large looking probe of some sort, a hooked piece of metal was rotating at the tip and streaming light.

"Such interesting markings… but their merits are anthological and not scientific".

He plunged the device into the corner of her moku1, it didn't hurt at first, but the pain began to increase. It was a burning sensation which intensified until she was screaming at him to stop. He didn't and wouldn't of course. The pain blurred her understanding of reality and she was soon drifting in and out of consciousness.

She woke with no knowledge that she had been unconscious for 53 hours and 38 minutes. She found herself back in the cage. Three tubes were protruding from her left arm; two in her right, a nasal-gastric tube snaked into the back wall. A large tube was inserted in her navel and a series of six tubes were in situ between her sternum and groin, although two of the tubes entered on each side, just above where the kidneys would be. The final tube was penetrating above her left knee. She was aware of each of the tubes and the sensation they gave her, however it wasn't what she would class as pain, rather a mild irritant, such as laying on a lump of scrunched sheets in bed. She was unable to move. Noting the transparency of the cell walls she wondered if it was some kind of illusion or advanced technology that enabled the tubes to appear if they fed to no where. Perhaps it was both. Concurrently, she came to the conclusion that the florescent type lights were causing the strained ache in her eyes as her eyes examined her new home.

There was an itch on her nose, but unable to move she had to wait till the sensation passed or she got used to it. There was nothing to do now but lye and wait; likely this would be the environment where she met her fate. At least she'd see all her friends and Whanau in the next existence, the afterlife. Bloody robots. While lying there, incapacitated, she became aware of heavy footsteps. One of them was approaching; she hoped inwardly that it bought with it her end, or at least a big whack of midaz. It bought pain, grief and suffering. Its dark cerulean eyes burned its sadistic gaze into the Homo sapiens comparatively tiny frame.

"This one – I have finished with it".

Its dark shadow moved on and another creature stood in his place. It reached down and opened the cell. It had a small device in its metallic hand and thrust it into a socket into the back wall, a glowing red electronic pulse ripped through the human form and it died screeching.

Marie turned her face away from her deceased neighbour, inwardly annoyed that the other was now free, however, she was slightly relieved – probably the survival instinct deep within the animalistic portion of her brain releasing _that _sensation.

1 Moku – Maori traditional tattoo, on men over the entire face, cheeks, chin, forehead, nose, on women just on the chin and lips are blackened with ink.


End file.
